


A Christmas Stray

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Comment Fic 2016 [134]
Category: Smallville, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any, taking in a stray animal at the holidays."Lois Lane and Chloe Sullivan take in a stray dog for the holidays. A stray dog that likes The Simpsons and sudoku.





	

The last thing John thought before the Trust agent activated the device was _oh, shit_. The world went blinding bright, and then dark, and John knew no more.

He awoke, disoriented, freezing cold. Hungry. On the street out front of a house. Most of the houses were dark except for their holiday lights, but this one was lit from the inside. People were awake, making noise, though the sound was - odd. Sharply echoing, like it was closer to him that it could have been.

The house smelled delicious, though. That had to be the hunger talking. John forced himself to his feet - the world was swaying and dipping and felt all wrong - and dragged himself to the door. Tried to knock. Tried to call out.

The door opened, and _fuck_ but something was wrong, because the woman who answered the door was a giant, but she smiled at him and said,

“Hey, buddy, what’s your name?”

John would have protested the condescension in her tone, like she was talking to a little child, but he was so hungry and with the door open he could smell her beef stew cooking, so he said, “John.”

Another woman appeared. She looked at the first woman and said, “No.”

“But -”

“No.”

“It’s winter, and he looks so cold!”

Before John could ask them why they were dithering when he was about to die of hypothermia, his world went dark again.

*

“He looks kind of like Ivy, don’t you think? Sleek black fur, white markings, but fluffy tail.” Lois and Chloe stood over the dog they’d rescued. He had passed out on the doorstep. Poor thing was rail-thin and his little paws were chapped from the cold and dry, so they’d bundled him into a towel and some blankets and put him on Lois’s bed.

“I told you,” Chloe said, “no dogs.”

“But look at him! He’s pretty clean and healthy-looking, except for how skinny he is.” Lois petted the bundle of blankets and towels sympathetically. “And it’s Christmas. I bet he’s missing or something. Sure he has no collar, but he has a tracking chip. It’s Kansas. People let their farm dogs roam. We should feed him and take care of him and make sure he’s okay.”

Chloe took a deep breath. “This is the same impulse that led you to chase a naked Clark Kent through a cornfield, isn’t it?”

“Probably not quite the same impulse,” Lois said archly, and Chloe blushed.

“You have a rescuing people thing,” Chloe pointed out.

“True.” Lois stroked the dog’s muzzle. “But he’s an innocent dog.”

Chloe stared at the dog. He did look like Ivy, their childhood dog. “Fine. But we can’t just call him ‘dog’.”

“I vote we call him John,” Lois said. “Like John Doe. Until we learn his name.”

“He’s a dog, not a person.”

Lois cuddled the newly-christened John close. “He’s a person, just not a human.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. John it is.”

The dog opened his eyes, and both of them breathed in relief.

“Hey, John,” Lois crooned. “How’re you feeling, buddy?” She reached out to pet him, but he shook off her hand.

“He can’t tell you if he’s feeling bad,” Chloe pointed out.

Lois parted the blankets and towels. “Let me just check you over, buddy. Make sure you’re not hurt.”

John attempted to dodge her grip, but then she started scratching his tummy, and he rolled over obligingly.

“Where is it, where is it,” Lois muttered, scratching all over his belly and sides, and then started kicking a leg. “Aha! The spot that makes your leg kick.”

Chloe stared at her cousin’s enthusiastic petting of the dog, who seemed just fine.

Lois stopped scratching him, and when she pulled her hand away, the dog rolled over and onto his feet, shook himself out. And noticed his reflection in the mirror on the far side of the room.

He went berserk, barking and barking and barking.

“Whoa, hey, calm down,” Lois said. “It’s just your reflection, buddy. Not another dog.” She glanced at Chloe. “Dogs understand about reflections, right?”

“Not when they’re little puppies, like babies. He’s old enough to know better.” Chloe eyed the dog askance. He looked full-grown, given his dimensions and the size of his paws. Could he have some kind of doggy brain damage?

Lois patted John tentatively on the back. He was vibrating with energy and fury. “Calm down, buddy.”

“He’s healthy enough,” Chloe observed. “Hey, uh, John. You hungry? Want some food?”

John padded to the edge of the bed and stared for a long time. Then he fell off the bed in an ungainly flail of paws.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” Lois crouched down beside him, righted him.

Chloe couldn’t help it - she burst out laughing.

“Don’t listen to her, John. She’s just mean-spirited sometimes.” Lois scratched him behind the ear. “Let’s go get some food.” She led John into the kitchen, and he made a beeline for the stove, where the crockpot had been simmering away all day.

John yipped and reared up on his hind legs, put his paws on the stove and nosed at the crockpot.

“Hey! Down!” Chloe snapped, and he turned to look at her with what she was pretty sure was insolence.

Chloe reached out and swatted him lightly just above his tail, and he yowled like she’d smacked him with baseball bat.

“Hey!” Lois protested.

John eyed Chloe, then tucked his tail between his legs and scuttled over to Lois, pressed against her leg and looked at her wide-eyed.

“I didn’t spank him that hard,” Chloe said. “I was just warning him to not try to get food up on the counters.” She sighed. “We don’t have any dog food.”

“We can give him a bowl of stew,” Lois said.

“Dogs aren’t supposed to have people food,” Chloe began, but Lois scratched John’s ears and crooned at him.

“How about a nice big bowl of beef stew, buddy? Does that sound nice?”

John, the little traitor, started wagging his tail and panting happily. And that was that.

“Dogs can’t have onions or garlic,” Chloe offered. “There’s onion in the stew.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised when Lois proceeded to de-onion a bowl of stew for John. When she set it down for him, he looked at it for a long moment, then slid close and lapped at it experimentally. After a few laps, he dug in with gusto.

“We’re not keeping him long,” Chloe reminded Lois, who’d started to write a list of dog supplies they needed to buy.

Lois stroked John’s back while he ate, earning a happy tail-wag. “I know, but we need to be prepared. Just in case. It’s the holidays, and some vets run short hours, so -”

“The pound has one of those microchip scanners, you know.”

Lois cast Chloe a wounded look. “We’re not taking him to the pound.”

“Just saying.”

“They probably keep worse hours this time of year anyway.” Lois reviewed her list aloud. “Anything missing?”

Chloe sighed. “No.” She eyed John, who was licking his bowl clean. “Think it’s safe to leave him here?”

“We can bring him to the pet store with us,” Lois said. “Those places are pet-friendly.”

*

Chloe was pleasantly surprised when John was well-behaved in the car, and at the pet store. Because he had no leash, he had to ride in the cart, but he was nice to everyone who paused to pet him, lapping up the attention and submitting to ear-scratches and belly rubs with aplomb. Lois went a little insane, buying a collar, a leash, food and water bowls, a blanket, a ball, a rope toy, a stuffed bed, and thirty pounds of dog food.

“We’re only going to keep him for a few days,” Chloe protested at the check-out lane.

“Then for those few days he’s going to be very comfortable, aren’t you, boy?” Lois petted him fondly.

John was well-behaved for the ride home as well, didn’t try to tear into the bag of dog food like Chloe had feared.

They got home and unloaded their purchases, set out a bowl of water and a bowl of dry food, and then Lois tried to put the collar on John.

He snarled at her, snapped at the collar when she held it out.

“Hey!” Chloe said. “Do not snap your teeth at Lois.”

John flattened his ears against his skull and barked loudly.

Lois sighed. “Fine, we’ll try the collar later.” She set it aside and picked up the ball. John refused to chase it. Refused to fetch it. Just stared at her, unimpressed, as she threw it for him, retrieved it, and threw it for him again.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to play fetch,” Chloe said.

“No, John’s smart. He’s just being stubborn.” Lois sat on the floor beside John, who was ignoring the ball and the bowl of food they’d set out, and searched on her phone for how to teach a dog to fetch.

Chloe sat at the table and read the newspaper. She still liked getting her news in print, partially because she was a journalist, and partially because she would always prefer the texture of pages in her hands.

Lois tried to play fetch, and chase, and teach John some tricks, but he just sat there and stared at her, bored.

“You’re a very strange dog,” Lois said finally, resigned to him not playing. “Oh well. We’ll keep you anyway, till we can figure out who owns you.”

“Which we could do,” Chloe said patiently, “if we took him to the pound.”

John barked.

“No, no pound,” Lois said immediately. “You don’t like the sound of the pound, do you, buddy?”

John barked again.

“You are a smart dog,” Lois crooned. “The pound is a bad, bad place.”

Chloe eyed John. “Well, if you don’t like fetch or chase or other tricks, how do you feel about the crossword?”

John licked his chops and otherwise looked bored.

“What about the daily sudoku puzzle?”

Lois huffed. “Chloe, he’s a dog. Stop making fun of him.”

But John whuffed.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Sudoku?”

John whuffed again.

Lois stared at him.

Chloe stared at him.

“Sudoku,” she said.

John whuffed.

Chloe blinked. “Can you understand me?”

John whuffed and wagged his tail.

“I think he does understand you,” Lois said slowly, eyes wide.

Chloe carried the newspaper over to Lois and John and sat down on the kitchen floor beside them. She spread out the newspaper and pointed to the sudoku puzzle square. John stood over it, appeared to be looking at it.

“Get a pencil,” Chloe said, and Lois groped up along the counter for one. She handed it to Chloe, who poised it over the very first square.

“Which number goes in here?” she asked.

John started barking like mad. Chloe tried to count his barks, but it was impossible.

“No, stop.”

Lois was staring at John like she was afraid of him. “Chloe, you don’t really think -”

“Wall of Weird,” Chloe said firmly. She tapped the first square. “What number goes in here, John? Is it one? Two? Three?”

John barked.

“Three.” Chloe wrote it down.

Lois shook her head. “No. No way.”

But Chloe moved on to the next square, counted up until John barked, filled it in. It took a long time, but finally they filled in the square. Chloe stared at it, counting the numbers and rows, and she was pretty sure it was right.

She reached out, cupped her hands around John’s head, peered into his eyes. “You were some kind of lab dog, weren’t you? Like an experiment? And you got free, didn’t you?”

John whuffed.

“Lois,” Chloe said, “we can’t let anyone find him, but we have to find out where he came from.”

“You think there are more sudoku genius dogs out there?” Lois asked.

Chloe nodded.

“Does this mean we can keep him for good?” Lois’s eyes lit up.

Before Chloe could protest, John licked Lois’s face, and Lois hugged him. Chloe sighed. Battle lost.

*

In the days leading up to Christmas, John became part of the household with surprisingly little fuss. He slept on Lois’s bed, he went running with them in the morning - he didn’t even really need a leash, because he was so obedient about keeping pace with them. They did the sudoku puzzle in the paper every day, and while the girls were at work, John got to watch TV, eat food, and go in and out of the window they left open for him in lieu of a doggie door.

Not only could John do sudoku puzzles, he could use the remote for the TV, and he had very strong opinions about what he watched on TV. He really wasn’t like a normal dog. Sometimes he went crazy and barked at the squirrels on the power lines outside, but then halfway through a round of frenzied barking he’d stop, shake himself out, and resume watching TV.

He was fighting his own canine instincts.

Once Chloe and Lois resigned to treating him more like a human than a dog, things were all right. He refused to submit to a leash or collar, and he refused all dog food, going on a two-day hunger strike before Chloe relented and let him have shares of people food. She’d thought she’d seen it all the day she came home from doing an interview and saw that Lois had set a third place at the table for John, but John sometimes got to ride shotgun in the car instead of Chloe, and more than once, Chloe had overheard Lois asking John for advice about Christmas presents.

Both Chloe and Lois had taken the two weeks of Christmas off work - and they’d done so by covering shifts for other reporters every other holiday and also some family events, like weddings and graduations and christenings and other things that didn’t happen in their lives - so they were home and finally putting up decorations when they heard it.

John going berserk over a squirrel in the yard.

“He won’t play fetch but he will bark at squirrels,” Chloe murmured. She’d been doing a lot of research into what it would take for a dog to be able to do sudoku. Working a TV remote was an easy trick. Having actual opinions about TV shows was something else. But math? They could do simple math, especially working dogs - and John appeared to be part border collie - but sudoku was definitely beyond a dog’s mental capability.

A normal dog.

Chloe continued reading a study about whether dogs could do math - modified from a test about whether babies could count - and then Lois cried,

“John, no!”

Chloe looked up and out the window just in time to see John vault over the fence after a squirrel and take off running.

Lois toed on her sneakers and took off out the door without a thought. Chloe cursed. She stood up, went and found her boots, pulled on a jacket and a hat, grabbed Lois’s jacket and a hat, grabbed the pack of pepperoni from the fridge, and headed out into the neighborhood. They lived on a busy street in Metropolis, and there were cars all around while people went shopping.

Lois was nowhere to be seen. Chloe picked what she thought was a set of fresh tracks in the snow on the sidewalk and followed them, calling out.

“Lois? John! John, where are you, buddy? Auntie Chloe has treats!”

Lois referred to herself as Mommy and to Chloe as Auntie Chloe, and somehow both ridiculous monikers had stuck.

Chloe’s hands were numb by the time she finally caught up to Lois, who was shivering on the sidewalk.

She was pale. “I lost him. He’s so fast -”

“The pound will find him.”

“But all the cars - he doesn’t know his way around - he’s not like normal dogs. He doesn’t have very good dog instincts,” Lois protested.

Chloe handed Lois a jacket and hat and led her back to the house. While they walked, Chloe put in a call to the pound, let them know they’d lost their dog and to call immediately as soon as any dogs were brought in. Chloe provided the girl on the phone with a description of John and her phone number, and then she went inside and started a pot of coffee.

Chloe and Lois sat around fretting, Lois pretending to learn how to knit - Martha Kent had tried to teach her - and Chloe doing more research on ultra-smart dogs and waiting for Chloe’s phone to ring.

The first time it rang, it was a call from work, which Chloe steadfastly ignored. Since the caller didn’t leave a voicemail, text, or send an email, it must not have been an emergency.

The second time it rang was a call from Lois’s sister, looking for Lois. Chloe said Lois was unavailable and to call back later and she didn’t know why Lois wasn’t answering her phone.

Third time was the charm. Pound. Several dogs caught, a couple matching John’s description. Chloe and Lois were in the car in a flash.

Down at the pound, they had to sign in and sit in a waiting room before someone came out to talk to them. Gina was a very nice girl - small, redheaded - and she told them the dogs they’d brought in were all unharmed but none of them had collars.

“John hated wearing his collar,” Lois said.

Gina patiently explained that dogs were required to wear licenses and vaccination tags by law, and Lois promised to fix that as soon as they got John back.

“Sam’s scanning the dogs for microchips now,” Gina said, “so hopefully we can find all their owners.”

As soon as they were in the back room, Chloe recognized John.

“Hey buddy,” Lois said, and John yipped joyfully, jumped for her, but Sam, a slender kid with freckles, was surprisingly strong and hung onto John’s improvised rope collar.

“Nope, need to scan him first,” Sam said.

“He doesn’t have a chip,” Lois said confidently, but Chloe’s throat closed. He probably did. If he was a special lab dog -

Sam waved his scanner over the back of John’s neck. He frowned. “Huh. There’s some kind of chip embedded in him - behind his ear, not at the back of his neck. But there’s no info on him.”

“The people we adopted him from didn’t say he had a chip,” Lois amended quickly.

“If you want, we can update your contact information on his chip,” Sam said, and Lois brightened.

“Yes, that would be -”

Sam frowned, tapped his monitor. “Huh. Computer’s malfunctioning. Weird.”

Chloe had gone toe-to-toe with LuthorCorp before. John’s tracking chip had probably unleashed a virus on the dog shelter’s computer system to remove all traces of him and probably sent some kind of tracking signal to John’s previous owners. The fact that no one had showed up to take him so far meant the chip must not have been emitting a continuous signal, or maybe it had been damaged.

“Maybe next time.” Chloe smiled tightly.

Lois bundled John up in her arms, made ridiculous cooing noises. Chloe paid the dog-at-large fee without hesitation, and they headed back to the house.

Lois coddled John ridiculously, giving him hot cider and a candy cane and asking if he was upset, being taken to the horrible doggie prison, and Chloe watched the windows of the house, wary and alert for anyone watching the house.

When John closed his eyes for nap, Chloe took Lois aside and explained her concerns.

“You really think they’ll come for him?”

“I do,” Chloe said.

“What should we do?”

Chloe took a deep breath. “Get ready to run.” She’d faked her own death once before. Going on the run for a story wouldn’t be a big deal. “Pack a go bag. And one for John.”

“What goes in a go bag for a dog?”

“Dog sweater if necessary. Dog booties. Portable food and water bowls. Leashes and collar and harness,” Chloe said. “And - a sudoku puzzle book and a pencil, since he doesn’t give a damn about fetch.”

Lois nodded.

Chloe went to check her own go bag, update some of the items in it for winter.

Lois breezed into the kitchen. “Ready! One bag for me, one for John.”

Chloe nodded. “Good. Go put them by the garage door.”

Lois went to obey, and then the doorbell rang.

Both women looked at each other. Chloe went to answer the door. Lois followed, scooped up a baseball bat, stayed out of sight behind Chloe.

“Hello?” she asked.

“My name is Dr. Rodney McKay. I’m a civilian contractor with the United States Air Force. We’re looking for someone,” he said.

Chloe blinked. “It’s just me and my cousin living here.”

McKay had sharp blue eyes and broad shoulders. He had thinning hair and was maybe a bit soft in the middle, but he had a strength and weight advantage on Chloe for sure. And he wasn’t alone. A slender, dark-skinned woman stood on one side of him, and a massive man stood on the other. A third man, wearing desert cammies with a major’s oak leaves adorning his shoulders, stood just behind the three of them.

“His name is John Sheppard.” McKay held up a photo of an attractive dark-haired man who had the kind of smirk that would infuriate men and charm women. “Have you seen him?”

John barked.

John. Border collie. They were used as sheep and cow herding dogs.

John Sheppard.

Chloe shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

McKay narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

Chloe nodded. “Like I said, it’s just me and my cousin Lois and our dog.”

“But you’re Chloe Sullivan.”

“Yes.”

“And your cousin is Lois Lane.”

“Daughter of General Lane, US Army,” Chloe said, shooting the major a look.

McKay rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Have you seen our friend or not?”

“I already said no,” Chloe said.

“Rodney,” said the dark-haired woman, “Miss Sullivan has no reason to deceive us. Perhaps it was a mix-up. Let us move on.” She flashed Chloe a smile. “Apologies for disturbing you. Happy holidays.”

She tugged on McKay’s shoulder, and he reluctantly allowed her to lead him back to the black SUV parked on the street out front of the house.

“If you happen to see Lieutenant-Colonel Sheppard,” said the major, “please give us a call.” He handed her a business card - Major Evan Lorne - and followed the rest.

John Sheppard was a soldier, then? With that hair?

Chloe nodded and closed the door.

The SUV didn’t pull away from the house.

“What now?” Lois asked.

“We go,” Chloe said. “Go now.”

“But they’re watching.”

“Don’t care. It’s not like TV. They can’t open fire on our car on a busy street. Let’s go to the Daily Planet. We know the building better than they do. There’s only four of them. We can shake them.”

Lois nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

Chloe and Lois scooped up their go bags and opened the garage door - and John took off like a shot. Made a beeline for the black SUV.

“John, no!” Lois cried.

The doors of the SUV spilled open, and Major Lorne landed on the sidewalk, firearm raised.

He fired.

Lois screamed.

Red light swallowed John, and he went limp in the snow.

“What the hell, Major?” McKay demanded. “You just shot a dog! On a public street!”

Major Lorne stared at John, baffled. “I - but the scanner said -” He waved his pistol again, and it emitted a beep. It wasn’t like any firearm Chloe had ever seen before. “It’s reading Colonel Sheppard’s subcutaneous tracker, Doc.”

The woman slid cautiously out of the car. “Did you call this animal John?”

“We found him,” Lois said, kneeling down and gathering him up into her arms. “A few days ago. We named him John Doe, because -” She glared. “You can’t have him! We know what you did to him!”

“We have not done anything to your dog,” the woman said, but Major Lorne eyed her.

“What do you think we did to your dog?”

“Experimented on him,” Lois said. “We know you did. John’s super smart for a dog. He likes The Simpsons and sudoku puzzles and you can’t take him back to experiment on him. We’re reporters. We’ll tell _everyone_.”

McKay made a choking sound. “Did you say The Simpsons and sudoku puzzles?”

Lois cuddled John close. “He’s a genius dog, and he’s ours now. Go away, or I’ll scream.”

The woman knelt down, stretched out a hand. “We promise we do not wish to hurt your dog or experiment upon him.”

“You shot him!” Chloe snapped, poised to tackle the woman to the ground so Lois could make a run for it.

“It was just a stun blast,” Major Lorne said. “He should be uninjured. I put it on the lowest setting.” But he did look chagrined.

The woman stroked John’s fur, and he stirred. “John,” the woman said, “it’s me, Teyla.”

John opened his eyes, licked her hand.

“What happened to you, John?” Teyla asked.

Major Lorne knelt down as well. “Colonel Sheppard,” he said, “we’ll get this sorted out in no time, sir.” He glanced at the tall man with the dreadlocks. “Call Zelenka.”

Chloe stared. “You mean -”

“That dog is my commanding officer,” Major Lorne said grimly. He fixed Chloe and Lois with steely looks. “And you cannot tell anyone. McKay, call Colonel Davis. We need some NDAs, stat.”

*

John came awake slowly, aching and disoriented. He was in the infirmary at the SGC.

“Rodney?”

Dr. Lam said, “He’s awake.” Immediately she was standing over him, shining a penlight in his eyes. “How are you feeling, Colonel?”

“Like a Trust agent blasted me with an alien device. Rodney?”

“I’m here, John.”

A woman said, “What do you remember?” Her voice was familiar, but also not.

John blinked. “I remember the device, and then - I must have passed out. Had really strange dreams.”

“What kind of strange dreams, sir?” That was Lorne.

John frowned. His entire body ached. “I dreamed I was a dog.”

“A dog?” Ronon sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Yeah.” John blinked some more. His vision was a little blurry. “It was weird. Like, I knew I wasn’t a dog, but when I looked in the mirror I was a dog, and the humans kept trying to treat me like a dog, and I kept trying to tell them I wasn’t a dog, and after a while I just - gave up. Let them feed me and pet me. Only - only they kind of believed I wasn’t a dog? They let me watch TV while they were at work, and we did the sudoku puzzle in the newspaper, and they let me eat at the table.”

“Were the humans nice?” another woman asked.

John nodded. “Yeah. Lois smelled nice. Chloe gave me belly rubs.” Finally, his vision cleared and -

Chloe and Lois stood at the foot of his bed, along with Lorne, Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, and Dr. Lam.

John stared. “What day is it?”

“Christmas Eve, sir,” Lorne said.

“But - our mission was -”

“You’ve been missing for weeks, sir.”

“But - my dream -”

“Not a dream, sir.”

John stared at Chloe and Lois and resisted the urge to tug the sheet up to his chin like an outraged Victorian maiden.

Lois waved. Chloe smiled.

“Nice to meet you properly, Colonel Sheppard,” Lois said.

John turned to Rodney. “What happened?”

“Someone mis-translated the instructions on the device,” Rodney said. “So it didn’t kill you, but it turned you into a -”

“I get the picture. What now?”

Lois held out a sudoku puzzle book and a pencil. “It’s brand new. I put it in your go-bag.”

Lorne said, “Miss Lane and Miss Sullivan were convinced that you were some super genius dog that had been experimented on in a lab, and they were determined to protect you, including from us.”

John stared at the puzzle book. He turned to Dr. Lam. “Am I high? Please tell me I’m high.”

“You’re fine, Colonel. Your body’s been through a lot, what with two transformations and a stunner blast while you were in canine form, but you’ll recover fully.”

“Merry Christmas, John,” Chloe said. She held out a little tupperware container of -

John knew that smell. Homemade stew.

“We picked the onions out of it,” Chloe said. “Onions are bad for dogs.”

John accepted the tupperware gratefully. Lorne produced a spoon from seemingly nowhere and handed it over.

“Merry Christmas,” John said, to Chloe and Lois. “And - thanks. For taking good care of me.”

Lois turned to Chloe. “Does this mean we can get a real dog?”

“No!”


End file.
